Hangers and Wet Laundry

Many years ago, I had several images impact my heart. Have you ever just been standing still and felt time wind to a stop as if it were intentionally trying to get  your attention? I have. I remember coming home one night from work on I-30 and watching a car spin out of control in front of me. As it bounced off the concrete median, I could not help but notice how slow it seemed to spin.  My heart sure was not beating slowly. My reactions to jerk my own steering wheel in a safe direction sure was not slow.  Although this very short occurrence in the past moments of my life seem to resemble one of these images burned into my brain that I have been trapped by tonight, it is not. I have, however: been able to travel back to several "dits" on my life's timeline to similar ones. The birth of my first daughter. My eyes cry even as I sit and briefly remember how precious that was. Even further back I can see out my window at 9 years of age as if there has been no time passed waiting on my first pet I lost to return home.  I had a friend at 12 years of age that came to my house one night, very late, only to tell me that her step brother had just raped her and her father hit her until she promised not to tell anyone. She told me. The horror of that moment was so innocent but burned into my heart with such helpless devotion to my friend. Years later I saw her at a neighborhood pool. The exchange of words spoken through childhood eyes was still saturated in a deep secret shamefully kept and she looked like the wreckage my heart felt for her years before. When I was 6, my new daddy, had hidden some Easter eggs in the yard. His delight was to see me frantically searching for the ever mischievous bunny that was just around the corner but I was not fast enough to catch him. I learned to be faster. My dad was watching me, but somehow, even through such young eyes, I have a vision of his very animated face cheering me on to catch that bunny! That very same yard is also where I found my first treasure, a silver dollar. I often wonder if he did not plant it in my favorite digging hole just so I could find the treasure that I KNEW was out there somewhere. I loved feeling the cold dirt and even mud on my hands!  I sure love him for those times. When I was young, I felt safe because he was my dad. I cannot explain why, I just did. He taught me to run into what I was afraid of. A friend is often defined by the trouble they help you avoid, but I love the partnership of defying that which strikes fear into the depths of our souls. Many dark passageways. I grew up going to the lake at my grandparents lake house in central Texas. The sun was hot and the water was ICE COLD! The ledge was a good 15 feet off the water and underneath was the unknown. The first time I determined in my gut and jumped into that scary shark infested LAKE, I must have been in the air for at least 5 minutes! Hitting the icy water sure made me wish I had been. It was one of many times that I would have a love affair with water or maybe just the exhilaration I felt while immersed in it. Still, this is just one of those memories that are time coded at half speed but not at a dead halt. I used to volunteer at an "old folks home". I know it is not politically correct to say that  now days but it has such sweet connotation to me. It has been lost to our children now to see things as they are and be able to share it appropriately from our their perspectives in a search to find a way to make all people happy. All people are not happy. All people are not equal in so many things. It is why we need each other. I miss those days terribly. Well, one day , while running into the rooms of old folks that could not leave their rooms nor did they have family to visit, I came across a man who was standing by his chair near a window. He was very tall and thin with the blackest hair I had ever seen on a face with so many wrinkles. He smiled so big when I walked in. Leaving his room at that point was not an option. We miss such sweet insight to the past and future when we run past careless pieces of our life that have no real rhyme or reason. At least , it seems that way at the time. That afternoon is a blur. It really was. Somewhere during that day I did leave but not until I heard that he was an Italian Officer in WWII, saw some pretty buttons that he caressed like an old friend, told me about men he had lost through a trembling voice, and a wife he missed dearly. At 14, I could not process those words of images, but now , much later, I often think of his smile. So few people smile like that anymore at anyone they do not know. I have always felt connected to something that I cannot explain but it always has a real face. His was one of them. That same year, I spent time with my Great Grandma by marriage only but she never, not one time, made me feel less important than any of the other great grand children. Man, did she have stories. Between General Hospital and As The World Turns, I heard of coming to Texas in a covered wagon. One time she took her shotgun to her sons after they broke a tree, I think. She looked at me and told me that she hit the ground on purpose cause she wasn't aimin' at any one of them boys  anyways. I was in awe of her. One of her 10 or 11 kids lived with her til she passed. Aunt Neil never married that I know of but she sure knew something about mothering a young girl. Taught me the proper way to snap peas and how amazing fried squash from your own garden tastes with a big glass of sweet tea. Too few years left at that point but I did not know such things. I laid on her bed with the cotton bedspread. You know the kind that feels so soft and  has loops all over it in designs. Huge windows and sweet summer breezes in Nanny's house one summer out of 45 or so now.  I don't have to close my eyes to live that moment again.  There was a day that stood out from some just like it  for some reason. I felt fear. I had felt fear before and walked in the darkness to conquer it before, but this was different. I had fallen in love and now had been thrown aside as if my love was not good enough. My sweet precious children were crying and the sirens were going off. A tornado had just touched down not 1 mile from my house. I had no car because he left it with the friend who took him to the airport to meet her for the first time. He never returned.  Two in diapers, and four looking at me in fright and I was scared for the first time in forever. I remember choking back the tears and calming my kids down with many prayers. Standing at the kitchen door, I was my laundry. I had no dryer and my laundry was getting wet and rained on and tossed about. I do not know what the wind speed was measured at, but there were only a few items of clothing left on the line by morning. It rained for a few days and I just watched my laundry get wet then dry, wet then dry. I did not even attempt to bring it in. It seemed so unreal that my laundry was still a complete family of clothes and we were not. Trees went down that first day and then again on the third day. The house next to ours had a tree that had been severed in two. A coat hanger was hangin on a knot of this broken tree. Just sitting there through the entire storm. It stayed on that tree knot through the wind and rain. I had no where to go so I watched my laundry not dry and the hanger not fall. The first day of sun, I discovered that my laundry was in the trees and I had boys underwear in places that I could not even go up to take down. This moment is frozen in time. This moment was when I was afraid and time stopped and  said, "Look!".  People are precious, no matter where they are or who they are or what pain they feel. The eyes of others have seen things that don't change with time.

 Take some time to borrow someone else's eyes~Mel

Words.

The Constitution is not an instrument for the government to restrain the people, it is an instrument for the people to restrain the government – lest it come to dominate our lives and interests. –

Patrick Henry

I chose to answer a post on my own wall this morning about a comment made last night by myself....it was curiously and mysteriously interrupted and disallowed by the facebook gremlins. So, I decided to write it somewhere safe and then link it like everything said should be done anyways. : )

Written last night by me:

"I FIND IT QUITE INTERESTING TO READ WHAT THE MEN WHO FOUNDED OUR GREAT COUNTRY WROTE AND PUBLICLY PROCLAIMED, WHEN WE ARE NOW GIVEN THE RIGHT TO SPEAK FREELY AND QUICKLY TOLD TO HUSH IN THE NAME OF PEACE."

       response from a fb friend:

       The freedom is there, but that doesn't mean everyone will like it. I may not agree with      
       (whoever)  but I say go ahead and say it. People getting irritated is not the same as it
       being illegal. You're not responsible for other people's reactions.

While this sounds good it started me thinking about the legalities of free speech. Why, in our country, can you go to jail or have your wallet raped by the powers that be, for something you say.


                                                                      Words.

"Sticks and stones may brake my bones, but words will never hurt me"

 

 

How many of us, as children cried, prissed, and yelled these words back at some other kid trying to hurt our feelings?  I sure had my fair share of it being the fat, little red- headed,  freckled, poor kid in school while my mom waited tables and my dad went to school and bar tended. Our forefathers spoke out generously with warnings and ideals often and until they were heard. Why, today is it legal to file against someone in court for something that is mere letters. There are words I loathe. The word nigger is one I do detest, not because I am black (I am not)or because I am ignorant (I am not), or because it evokes some personal pain I feel for a people wronged, but because it produces an arrogant wardrobe to those who use it and have no right to wear that wardrobe  for a difference in skin pigmentation. Should someone go to jail, I do not think so. I am a chunky, red-headed, Christian, conservative (in most things), mother of 11 children, who also believes that abortion for any reason is murder, homosexuality is a choice and not genetics, and that spanking children is a must when done without anger and as a last resort to teach bad behavior consequences. I hold dear my Bible and all who have gone before me and been killed for it along with the reverence of the soil I lay my head on and the blood shed to protect it.  I have had some of the most awful things said to my face in public by those compelled to try and make me feel bad for something they felt by my very presence. Should I file a lawsuit? No. Should I take the opportunity to speak and refute those possibly misplaced angers, yes. So many people today spout about their own rights, but fail miserably in my opinion to look at the possible addition they can contribute to society and posterity. My Nanny called it a legacy.

 

Legacy:

 

 anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor

 

I have heard the words Entitlement Generation used alot in the last few years. It rang in my brain as I watched the political monster move thru our country this election. Political promises to people who do not understand it is an impossibility to fullfill. The culture of our country is being redefined by a weakness to address the issues instead of pacify the incessant "toddler" in the room. Haven't you ever seen the frantic mother or father in the grocery store running around with the screaming brat of a kid, trying to buy their silence instead of turning that kid over their knee and rewarding that bad behavior with something as a reminder of what NOT to do? I have. That very minute (the one of panic buying), a parent has lost the honor and ability to effect and teach that child (future Americans) correctly. Government has never been an institution to be trusted. Ours is no different. Time and change has left us with people in charge that are stealing the safe and giving it to the neighbor across the street while shoving ice cream after ice cream down the screaming brat's face who wants nothing more than what it wants to feel good reguardless the consequence. So many people with their hands out wanting them filled with little to no reguard of the consequence to the security of the economy or future of our country and a pen in the other to check mark the box of who fills it more.

 

Entitlement at it's best (or worst).

 

I am not sad today because the guy I voted for, lost. I am sad today for the policies that are going to change our country from liberty and true freedom to dream, to a controlled and enslaved lifestyle that will not be known til it bares it's nasty teeth. Little ones, those who chose to live apart from the responsibilities of our country but want everything in return, will be the first to say ouch and wonder what and why.  I would look behind the curtain before you sound that cheer too loud. Money is not free,it cost someone.  Maybe you don't care about the future, have no kids, and want to party on what you can get from anyone first.....I am not.  That is all I have to say today. ~Mel

 

 

 

 

Rash Of The Titans: Two Tons of Steel

Rash of the Titans by Dale Arnold of hwy82musicreview.com

There are rumors, and there are rumors, but the fact of the matter is one of the greatest icon bands in Texas music, Two Tons of Steel, has gone their separate ways. At least with the members we all have grown to know and love that is. Knowing this kind of thing happens frequently in the industry this is no shock to me and is to be expected. Musicians have great passion for their art and it can create huge riffs in the fabric of the space-time continuum when a group as well rounded and famous as Two Tons of Steel turns supernova. What most folks do not realize is the sacrifice our friends go through to stay on the top. The endless hours traveling from town to town, and gig to gig in the close confines of a van can take their toll. Staying away from home and loved ones for such long periods along with other issues that come up just from being around the same people day in and day out can be hard on even the best of friends. Musical interests change over time and every band member has a personal idea of what they want their career to be, and an opinion of how to get it there. I have seen it happen many times over the years as members change and morph into other bands, and great bands separate looking for that ever-elusive perfect sound that propels them into the high-dollar arenas. Let us face a fact that is what the quest for the true final nirvana is; Finding the one great opportunity; the one big break that propels a band into stardom. It is a quaint idea most of us blissfully entertain that musicians play simply for the love of the song, but in today’s world that is growing more increasingly rare. It is naiveté for all of us on this side of the fence to think our favorite musicians and bands do not want; nay need this to be able to continue to bring us the wonderful sounds and lyrics we all enjoy so much.

This is where we come in as friends and fans that support these high-spirited folks and show them that no matter what the reasons were for the dissection were still out here and still listening. Sure, it is hard to grasp that the band members will not be the same anymore. Sure, it is a little un-nerving to think the sound may change from what we know and love. Sure, we may have alliances to some of the jilted members for whatever reasons. But putting all of the selfish and prideful issues aside, just think of all of the new and even greater possibilities. Change is an opportunity to grow. We have the opportunity to dissipate the differences and anxieties. We have an opportunity to move in a different direction under an entirely new set of circumstances.

From the bands perspective the separation can produce new music, and new sounds. The time apart can give the space needed to heal any wounds caused in the name of passion. The infusion of new members not only adds some fresh new sound to the mix but new direction and new ideas. The separate musicians are now able to pursue personal interests related to family, musical careers, or primary jobs. New bands formed and new friendships are forged. I say there is more to gain all around from the dissolve of a group so we should not pine and despair. Seize the day my fellow Two Tons fans. Pray for all of the guys and hope them the best. Look forward to new territory and new beginnings. The Beatles, the Eagles, Crosby Stills and Nash, John David Kent and The Dumb Angles, Two Bar Town, Whiskey Road Show, Miles From Nowhere, and now Two Tons of Steel, it has happed to us all at one time of another. A meeting of the minds and a parting of the ways is sometimes necessary. I wish Kevin, Dennis, Chris R., and Doddsy all of the best as I know everyone of their die-hard fans out here do. I look forward to hearing and seeing each one of them again out on the circuit alone, or together. I am proud to call them my friends, and I will support them in whatever endeavors they have. I’ll be the loudest one in the front row when the reunion tour comes around. Two Tons! Two Tons!

Dale Arnold

Co-owner, CIS officer

Texas Red Productions

Texas Red Photography

www.hwy82musicreview.com

Breathing, when you want to hold it or scream!

For all my grammar freaky friends, this blog will undoubtedly drive you batty. I will be as unethically grammatically wrong as possible to make my point with pictures, runons, and inappropriately placed punctuation. Jus' sayin' ahead of time: )

I slowed down today, when on a normal day, I wake up racing to the coffee pot, drink one cup really fast while making breakfast for my brood, start a few projects on the computer, answer more than a few phone calls, run someone to somewhere that needs to be there NOW, only to do the same repetition of activities two more times during the day. At the tail end of that day, take a shower that puts me to sleep before I stumble to the bed. Today was a different travel for me and an intentional one at that. I realized that my little one was asking me to look at him in the face. One of my teenagers mumbled something in passing that did not even register until he was headed up the stairs. My 5 year old daughter said she did not feel special today...........................that one hurt a little more than I wanted to admit to at first. It is true that I "have alot on my plate" with 9 kids at home, a husband worn smooth out, and a business to run almost alone. I thrive on the activity of it all  most days, but TODAY I had to tell myself

STOP!!

     STOP!!!    STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                                                            STOP!!!                               
STOP!!!!                                                                 STOP!!!!!


I took a deep breath, which I reccommend to all who have over-achieving brain activity in order to allow more oxygen in.  I called a friend who could relate to most of all what I was going through, but certainly not the kid factor. My goodness, how easily we dive into the activity that surrounds those we love without much thought to how the activity may just be a selfish endeavor covered up by a blanket of reasons why we love those people in our lives. Might be is all I said becuase I certainly don't think I am only doing these things for myself. I am saying that once in a while, look into those little eyes and love 'em back no matter how inconvienent it might seem. Sip the coffee instead of down it for the next two or three.(Some of us are also guilty of the monster addiction: )) The handholding and kissing in a normal day is far over looked by those in my position too. So very little investment that I almost overlooked the HUGE returns! Life is crazy enough.....I KNOW because I actually stopped and read some news today. THIS I DO NOT RECCOMMEND TOO OFTEN. I don't know who realy cares anymore or who truly listens to my rants, but I do know that we all seem to be hurting and hurting the wrong people in our lives...not that you should hurt ANYONE, but it is inevitable if you chose to love someone else. Sometimes, we hurt those closest to us because we cannot see past the last one we loved that hurt us. Seems to me that it is all so messed up way too often and it makes my heart sad at being anything remotely close to a hurt for someone I say I love dearly..........stay connected. Stay soft. Don't buy into that line of thought that the HURTING ONES have to believe in to survive. I took a deep breath today. Loved on my little ones more. Went to McDonalds with my 5 yr old(which I cannot personally stand!) Took time to pray with them before bed. (Even though my two youngest boys decided to secretly get their older brothers super glue and proceed to stick it to their TEETH!!!!! Where do they come up with this stuff!) I sent my husband a "sweet text" and then a hug. I am going to practice, just tomorrow, looking at who is talking to me. Hug my husband when I see him (He is one of the hurting ones without eyes to see me,YET) I am going to listen more than I speak (HAHA I will just write more I think! but that doesn't count : ) The world is just as crazy, the mean lady at the grocery store will still burn a hole in my head for being in her way, and I will still be behind on my projects until they are done. I will still have just as much to do, but maybe, just maybe! those little changes will change how what I am doing is percieved by the LOVED ONES in my circle of life. I stopped, and took a deep breath.

NOTATION:
Some elements of my rant may not make sense to some, hit spot on for others and be completely picked apart by a few left.....but I sure hope that it was condusive enough for YOU to have taken something with you when you finished. We, NONE OF  US, are perfect, but don't settle for the UN'S IM'S and IN'S at all.

unloving
inconsiderate
unattentive
intolerant
unappreciative
inappropriate
uncaring
untrusting
impatient
unsharing
impertinant
unreasonable

Thank you Mark Allan Atwood.....the most eloquently spoken description of my work...... EVER.

"Melissa's work www.texasrephotography.com brings to photography what songwriters and performers can only hope their art brings to the ears and hearts of their fans. There's a vibe, an 'aliveness' to her live music photographs that literally steals the moment, places it captive in her hands and then allows later viewers to relive more than merely the look of that second in time. Her grasp of colors, contrast, angles and the very emotions that ripple across the faces and bodies of the performers she photographs, allows her to tell a story as powerful as any of her subjects. Further, her understanding of those same requirements to capturing great live shots helps her still photo work to be anything but still, brimming with life and a realness hard to translate through a lens. Simply put, she has a gift for both creating and recreating, that elevates her work to the top of my list."   
                                                                                   

                                                                                    Mark Allan Atwood www.markallanatwood.com

Mark Allan Atwood and Brimstone

– Rebels, Old Souls, New Horizons

Over the past two years Melissa and I have worked closely with Mark Allan Atwood on several projects and we have gotten to know him much better not only as a friend, but as a sounding board for our ideas about the Texas music industry. I think I know Mark well enough by now to voice my take on his songs without offending. Mark Allan Atwood has been a Texas musician and songwriter for many years and I consider him a Texas treasure. Not only is he one of the best singer songwriters around, he is one of the least appreciated in the business today. He has a quality and cohesiveness to his lyrics that, although not always apparent at first, subconsciously grow as one listens to the songs. The words pass through your ears and roll around in your head, then the true lyrical greatness, feelings, and depth of meaning follow after. He has a strong singing voice, clear and loud, or soft and low when required but always demanding your attention. It does not matter if it is a slow serious song or a belting ballad he annunciates the choruses with heart and feeling, and not an ounce of trepidation.

Listening to the rough tracks from several of the songs on the new CD “Burned at the Crossroads” I’ll admit I was a little nonchalant and cursory at first. Later I was able to listen more closely to the music and the complexities of his words while Melissa was developing the ideas she would later use as the album artwork.

I am going to get the only issue I have with this collection of great songs out on the table and up front. I  also know it is a personal opinion. Not one that is unfounded, although it is an unpopular position with younger musicians today. It seems as if almost every songwriter has a signature song with references to Marijuana. It’s nothing new to the business, but it tends to limit the marketability of a song when it comes to airplay time. Let’s face it, the bottom line is in the end every song written has a dream of being a number one hit on the radio. Otherwise, why try to market the song in the first place. I personally would have liked to have seen at least two of the first four songs, be different songs. Preferably not three songs about drug use at the veritable beginning of what I think could be a defining point in Mark Allan Atwood’s musical career. I have no issues with the songs themselves per se, just the order they were placed in during engineering. I believe in putting your best foot forward so to speak, and one song with some vague references could be more easily acceptable in my humble opinion. Though I am suitably impressed he figured out how to use the word “Paraquat” in a song. . There I got it off my chest, let’s move on.

All that being said this collection of hit songs excels on every other level. Produced and engineered by Brimstone and Adam Odor (Stone Cringe) and recorded by the guys at Yellow Dog Studios, This CD touts guest appearances by Lloyd Maines and subtle background vocals by Bonnie Whitmore, and includes the songwriting talents of Heath Childs and Dennis Phillips. The top notch talent of the Brimstone band consists of Mark Allan Atwood on vocals, guitar, and harmonica, Wayne O’Neil on lead guitar, Matt Nunn on Bass, Rich Tulp on Drums, and “Uncle” Mitch Connell on Piano and B3 organ.

There are many reflective and precise songs on this CD, and every one is unique and imaginative. Some are dark, and some are retro and groovy like the song “Liar”, but every song on the CD invokes common feelings we all have at some point in our lives.

“Anyone listening” is one of the most powerful songs I have ever heard. Everyone has felt the cold grasp of loneliness at times. There are so many people in our world today who battle with loneliness and depression. From the plight of the elderly, to the struggling teenager, to the handicapped veteran, all of them are screaming out just to be noticed. Wanting anyone to acknowledge them, spend a moment or two talking with them, showing them they really matter and still have some worth in life. Another powerful and well written song is “Dead man”. It’s about the end of a relationship, and the beginning of the long hard road to surviving that loss. It speaks of the situations we create for ourselves, when we are forced to accept the harsh reality of life without someone we rely on. In “Good Old Days” and “Ocalla Road” Mark sings about nostalgia for the things of an earlier time, and a younger world when life seemed more safe and simple. By far the most fun song is “Good Dog”. The gals will giggle, and the guys will say sheepish things but the truth is a dog really can be a man’s best friend. When it comes to unconditional love, a good one can’t be beat.

Finishing up, I want to comment on “Ghost”, and “California” two of the premiere songs on the CD. Singers like Townes Van Zandt and Doug Sahm were the pioneers who forged the way for many early Texas and Americana musicians. Townes’ lyrical style has always been a driving force for Texas songwriters. They all want to write songs as close to his style as they can. His music was raw and gutsy, and  definately not flashy or mainstream.  Musicians struggle to write songs like those and still remain unique and different, and then to be acknowledged as such. It works really well but sometimes it works too well. “Ghost” is about the spirit of Van Zandt always being present for some. There is always one guy in the crowd who wants to hear “Pancho and Lefty”. Listen carefully to the words of “Ghost” and you’ll hear a little bit of TVZ in every sentence. Then skip on over to “California” at the end of the CD. A haunting dreamscape Mark paints of the California Gold Rush and a mine cave-in in a small town. The song begins with a first person narrative from a trapped miner awaiting rescue that never comes. Then the story changes to the point of view of the great, great grandson of that very same miner and a revelation of what it must have been like. Mark Allen has written a spectacular song, with a twisted and riveting ending. My final opinion on Mark Allan Atwood’s composition “Burned at the Crossroads” is this is one of the most down to earth, bare bones, hard hitting CD’s of the year. Raw, emotional, entertaining, and energetic, and one of my favorite CD’s of all times. Mark Allan Atwood and Brimstone are a fast rising force in Texas Music today and all I can say is great work, and keep ‘em coming!

Dale Arnold

Co-owner, Co-producer

Texas Red Productions

www.hwy82musicreview.com

~Where LIVE music is an addiction!

Justin Bowerman

In Persuit of Life,Love and…well…Wild Game.

In the pine thickets of East Texas and forests of Southern Arkansas is where I grew up. My family hails from in and around the Texarkana area. During my early childhood and young adult life I hunted and fished almost every part of these areas. That is one of the main reasons why Justin Bowerman’s musical style has such a nostalgic attraction for me.

When I first got his CD "Rock You"  and even before I listened to his music, I took a long look at the musicians who recorded the material. Immediately I knew it was going to sound and be a great CD. The cover art was simple and un-cluttered sporting his unmistakable fish-hook signature logo, and some very tasteful and well placed candid photos. The music was recorded and produced by Stormy Cooper (The Roger Creager Band) at Stormy Cooper Media in Houston. Stormy also performed on the CD along with Josh Owen, and Allen Huff also of The Roger Creager Band. Veteran Bassist Rankin Peters who has been called the best Bass player in Texas. Others contributing their talents were Fiddle player Chris Whitten (The Cody Johnson Band), sound engineer Lyndon Hughes on drums and percussion, and the great Kenny Jackson on Steel Guitar. Slipping the CD into my player, I eagerly drank in every song. His voice has a smooth, velvet-like texture, easy on your ears. Justin can hold the vocal strong notes to just the right length.

Songs like “Jugline”, and “Deer Meat” are a sportsman’s anthem. I can picture all of the Hunter’s and Fishermen standing up when one of these songs comes on the radio. Removing their hats, and wiping a sympathetic tear from the corner of an eye. “Hell or High Water” continues the call of the wild. It speaks of stepping out of the daily grind and letting nature take its course. If you ask me, it could possibly start another back to the land movement.

Justin Bowerman has appeal for the ladies too with songs like “Rock You”, “Almost Love”, and “4^th of July”. Justin shows he can write and sing a great country Love song that everyone will like. The Guys had better grab their best sweetheart and start boot-scootin’. I’ll bet the girls will be swooning and screaming at the edge of the stage when he belts out any of these tunes, or I’ll buy you a Kenny Chesney CD.

A personal favorite of mine is “Listen Good”. My wife has a saying whenever someone ends up telling her, a perfect stranger, their life story just like Justin sings in this song. She say’s “My sign must have been on”. Pertaining to the old Peanuts comics where Lucy has her psychology stand set out and gives Good old Charlie Brown her personal life advice for a nickel. It’s a song about how folks sometimes cope with the stress of everyday life, and the good-hearted people who get the wave of emotions that tend to spill out at awkward moments.

I’m not going to give away all of the gems Justin has put on this well made, great listening and fun compilation of songs. You will have to get his CD and judge for yourself. Justin Bowerman has all of the makings of a great singer and songwriter. He writes his lyrics from the heart, and his life. He has something to say through his music that every listener can relate to, and succeeds in bringing you right into his frame of mind. It shows Justin can hold his own, as far as song writing and musical skills go, with any of the popular artists out there today. I’m waiting on Justin to head out on tour so I can catch him live onstage. Watch your local venues for his name, and don’t miss out on hearing an All-American original like Justin Bowerman.

Dale Arnold

Co-Owner, Co-Producer

Texas Red Productions

http://www.hwy82musicreview.com/

~Where LIVE music is an addiction!